1Cademy - بخش ۱۲ - خواب کردن حبشی و باز بردن دایه وی را به خانه / Section 12 - Putting the Abyssinian to Sleep and His Nurse Taking Him Back to the House

Learn Before

Haft Awrang

Poem

بخش ۱۲ - خواب کردن حبشی و باز بردن دایه وی را به خانه / Section 12 - Putting the Abyssinian to Sleep and His Nurse Taking Him Back to the House

Original content

شب چو نزدیک شد به وقت سحر
حبشی برد سوی بالین سر

چشم حس بست ازین جهان خراب
داد نقد خرد به غارت خواب

دایه آن را چو دید چابک و چست
باز بردش به خوابگاه نخست

بیخود افتاد تا بلندی چاشت
چاشتگاه بلند سر برداشت

چشم مالید و هر طرف گردید
زانچه شب دیده بود هیچ ندید

دید ازان منزل چو علیین
رخت خود در نشیمن سجین

نه ازان همدمان شب خبری
نه ازان شادی و طرب اثری

نه ازان آفتاب جاه و جمال
هیچ چیزش به دست غیر خیال

ره به مقصود خود ز پیر و جوان
جست چندانکه داشت تاب و توان

ناشده بر مراد خود فیروز
ماتمی در گرفت عالم سوز

دوستی حال وی چو آنسان دید
موجب آنچه دید ازو پرسید

گفت بس حال مشکلی دارم
غرقه گشته به خون دلی دارم

زد ره من به عشوه ناگاهی
دلپذیری به حسن و دلخواهی

بی نظیری که شد زبان مقال
عقل را در صفات حسنش لال

گر کسی نعت و نام او پرسید
یا محل یا مقام او پرسید

ور بگوید کجاست خانه او
خانه کیست آشیانه او

مولدش خلخ است یا فرخار
مسکنش تبت است یا تاتار

شاه اقلیم و ماه کشور کیست
خصم جانسوز و یار غمخور کیست

چشم او سرمه ناک افتاده ست
یا خود از سرمه پاک افتاده ست

نخل قدش که صنع حق بسته ست
معتدل یا بلند یا پست است

گیسویش چون کمند تافته اند
یا پی دام و بند بافته اند

رخش از نقش خال و خط ساده ست
یا خود آن زیب دیگرش داده ست

لعلش آمد حیات تشنه لبان
یا هلاک مراد دل طلبان

ابروی او که در جهان طاق است
قبله عاشقان مشتاق است

شد ز پیوستگیش پیوسته
بر جهان راه عافیت بسته

یا گشاده ست و رخنه گاه بلا
باز کرده به روی اهل ولا

از دهان و میانش هیچ نشان
هیچ کس یافت آشکار و نهان

یا خود آن سر مخفی مرموز
هست مستور سر غیب هنوز

هر چه زین نکته ها خیال کنند
وز من خسته دل سؤال کنند

جز خموشی جواب دیگر نیست
جز ندانم سخن میسر نیست

زانکه من در جمال آن دلبر
معنیی دیده ام برون ز صور

گرچه آن معنی ز صورت فرد
در لباس صور تجلی کرد

نور آن برق پرده سوز افروخت
سر به سر پرده های صورت سوخت

محو معنی و فارغ از صورم
نیست از جلوه صور خبرم

پیش من نیست رخ ز خط ممتاز
زلف او رانمی شناسم باز

گر کشد چشم او به تیغ ستم
ور دهد لعل او نوید کرم

هر دو در ذوق من بود یکسان
نیست این مشکل آن دگر آسان

دأب من نیست جز محبت ذات
ذات بر من زده ست ره نه صفات

من صفت بهر ذات می خواهم
نز برای صفات می کاهم

چون ز دل برق عشق شد لامع
ذات متبوع شد صفت تابع

من صفت بهر ذات دارم دوست
نه که در عشق ذات تابع اوست

چون کنی میل ذات بهر صفات
هست معشوق تو صفات نه ذات

هر صفت کش تو عاشقی به مثل
چون شود با نقیض خود مبدل

عشق تو نیز رو نهد به زوال
بلکه گیرد به نفرت استبدال

English translation

When night drew near to the time of dawn, The Abyssinian laid his head upon the pillow. He closed the eye of sense from this ruined world, And gave the cash of intellect to the plunder of sleep. When the nurse saw him quick and nimble, She took him back to the first sleeping-place. He lay unconscious until the height of forenoon; At the high forenoon he raised his head. He rubbed his eyes and looked around in every direction; Of what he had seen at night, he saw nothing. He saw, instead of that mansion like the high heavens, His own baggage in the dwelling of hell. No news of those night-companions, No trace of that joy and pleasure. No sign of that sun of glory and beauty; Nothing was in his hand but fancy. He searched for his goal from old and young, As much as he possessed strength and power. Not having triumphed in his desire, A world-burning mourning took hold of him. A friend saw his state in that manner, And asked him the cause of what he experienced. He said, 'I have a highly difficult state, I have a heart drowned in blood. Suddenly, a heart-pleasing beloved of beauty and desirability Blocked my path with coyness. An incomparable one, at whose attributes of beauty The tongue of speech and the intellect became mute. If anyone asks of their description and name, Or asks of their place or station; Or if they ask, where is their house? Whose house is their nest? Is their birthplace Khalkh or Farkhar? Is their dwelling Tibet or Tatar? Who is the king of the realm and the moon of the country? Who is the soul-burning adversary and the grief-sharing friend? Has their eye fallen with kohl, Or is it clean of kohl? Is the palm-tree of their stature, which God's craft has fashioned, Moderate, tall, or short? Are their tresses twisted like a lasso, Or are they woven for trap and snare? Is their face simple without the design of beauty-spot and down, Or has that given them another beauty? Did their ruby lip become the life of the thirsty-lipped, Or the destruction of the seekers of the heart's desire? Is their eyebrow, which is unique in the world, The qibla of the eager lovers, Has its joining continuously Closed the path of safety to the world, Or is it open and has it opened the breach of calamity To the face of the people of devotion and love? Of their mouth and waist, did anyone Find any sign, outwardly or inwardly? Or is that hidden, symbolic secret Still concealed as a secret of the Unseen? Whatever they imagine of these points, And ask of my tired heart, There is no answer other than silence, No speech is possible other than I do not know. Because in the beauty of that beloved, I have seen a meaning beyond forms. Although that meaning, separate from form, Manifested itself in the raiment of forms, The light of that veil-burning lightning flared And burned the veils of form from end to end. I am absorbed in meaning and free from forms; I have no news of the manifestation of forms. In my view, the cheek is not distinguished from the down, And I do not recognize the tresses. Whether their eye draws the sword of tyranny, Or their ruby lip promises grace, Both are equal in my taste; This is not difficult, nor is that one easy. My habit is nothing but love of the Essence; It is the Essence that has blocked my path, not the attributes. I want the attributes for the sake of the Essence; I do not diminish myself for the attributes. When the lightning of love shone from the heart, The Essence became the followed, and the attribute became the follower. I love the attribute for the sake of the Essence, Not that in the love of the Essence, the Essence is subject to it. When you incline towards the Essence for the sake of attributes, Your beloved is the attributes, not the Essence. For any attribute you are in love with, as an example, When it changes to its opposite, Your love too will face decline, And indeed be replaced by aversion.'

Updated 2026-07-07

Contributors are:

Who are from:

References